Recovery
by PhinnieLin
Summary: AS shonen ai oneshot Set during the aftermath of Gaiden, Seiji's recovery is not as any would prefer. The misguided actions of his friends aren't helping. Can a darker companion help matters? Or is it too late?


For you, Kage-chan! Happy 20th!  
  
Recovery  
  
by Ginzai  
  
_________________________________________________  
  
I took a ride to meet an enemy  
  
I faced a fear of mine and shivered but didn't blink  
  
I took a ride to meet an enemy to end all the madness  
  
And now I know that I'll be fine  
  
I am fine  
  
-Enemy by Eve 6  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
It was late August and the summer sky was finally dimming from brilliant blue to dull lavender tinged with the encroaching navy of night. The first of the stars were appearing, just now showing their faces at this sign of dusk. Outside the large house, four young men called to one another in loud, hearty voices while a woman waited patiently in the car, waiting for them to finally arrive. After gathering themselves in the vehicle with an arrangement which likely defied physics, the car started with a burst of sound and exhaust. It trailed out slowly, gathering speed, before finally zooming into the distance. It left only the echoes of laughter to die slowly in the deepening dusk.  
  
Sitting curled on the window ledge, Seiji wrapped his arms around his stomach and leaned back, watching the tail lights disappear in the distance. He'd been invited on the journey to the city, implored even, but had held fast to his desire to not deal with crowds of strangers and stay with the cool quiet of the mansion's empty halls. Touma in particular had tried to get him to come, and had looked at him with worried deep blue eyes when Seiji had quietly refused. Even Ryou had agreed, somewhat to their shock, and that Seiji would refuse even then seemed a cause for more concern.  
  
It was their last week together, before school and outside lives would call them back to their families. Much to Touma's disappointment, even for that Seiji had been unable to overcome his deep distaste for the club that his friends had wished to go to. He did not admit to himself that it was more his friends that he wished to avoid than the strangers. At least they would only stare at him for his coloring and not for his recent experiences.  
  
Seiji hugged himself closer. His white shirt wrinkled with his movements, lifting slightly so that the unbuttoned sleeves rode up to expose his fair skin. It was still warm, summer being in full swing, but Seiji had never dealt well with the night. Darkness had been something which had terrified him as a child. Whether that was due to his grandfather's tendency to lock Seiji in small dark places as a punishment or if it were because his own nature reviled the darkness so completely, Seiji had never been certain. He did not dwell on it. Instead he cast his gaze across the yard, to see what signs of day remained. Fireflies were beginning to dimple the air, soft glowing specks to light the darkness. His eyes softened at their efforts, and then he closed them against   
  
the sight.   
  
He was very calm, relaxed and reposed in a way which might have surprised his friends were they there to witness the sight. It had been such a long time since he'd been able to let go of his barriers around them, to let loose enough to ease their worries and concerns. They still watched out for him as though he were a broken vase, repaired with scotch tape and glue and ready to fall apart at the slightest breath of air.  
  
It was frankly annoying and though he was certain that their intentions had been good, it came across as an accusation that Seiji was unable take care of himself. It was made worse when they hovered too close for comfort and endlessly demanded that he speak of his feelings or tell them the slightest of his needs. It had been longer than he'd thought, his time in America, and their desires to confine Seiji to the state of an invalid spoke more to their guilt at not noticing his trouble than to any true desire to help him.  
  
Frowning at the thought, Seiji pressed harder against the wood to his back. It was smooth wood and so provided a firm resistance that he could feel down the line of his spine. It was more comfort than any his friends had managed to provide. It disturbed him, and he pushed the idea away, locked it down with the rest of the grief and anger which Seiji did not allow himself to feel.   
  
Repression had been a good friend in these dark days. It was a bitter notion, and while bitterness had never been his way, it had haunted his mind during the past month.   
  
The night was a bright one; the dusk had finally died but true darkness had been foiled. The moon was huge on the horizon, so much that he could feel the light of it even with his eyes still firmly shut. There was a slight wind, and the barest of hints of electricity rode on it to kiss his skin. There would be a storm before morning, but for the moment all was calm and easy. Seiji loved moments like this, and so having been granted with it, he strove to enjoy it as much as he could. Several long moments passed. Seiji was unaware of them, lost in the quiet and the peace that it brought.   
  
"Enjoying yourself?"   
  
It was a deep voice and one that he'd heard many times before. Seiji's lips curved in a slight smile to hear it.  
  
"Yes," he said honestly, and was oddly surprised to realize that it had been the first time he truly had been since before New York. He opened his eyes. A dark pair met his own, black enough to look as though they had swallowed the night.   
  
"Anubisu," Seiji said evenly and settled himself more firmly on the window ledge.   
  
Anubisu didn't look as he had last year, with wild hair and wilder eyes that had glittered with malice and a desperate sort of destruction. The mania which had so long seemed a part of Seiji's one time enemy was gone. Anubisu was just as tall as Seiji remembered, but he had exchanged his yoroi for a less traditional pair of dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket that was left open to expose a pale shirt. The night made the scar on Anubisu's face look newly made, as though it was still bleeding. It made Seiji feel he could heal it, if Anubisu would allow it. He wondered if he should offer.  
  
It wasn't the first time that the two had seen one another after the end of the war, though it likewise was not a common appearance. Once or twice a month, Seiji's darker counterpart would seek him out, somehow tracking him down to talk or to spar. It was pleasant; this chance to argue and fight without hatred when Seiji would once would have never considered it a possibility. It was made more so that it was Anubisu, someone who was so equally skilled as Seiji himself. There was a connection between them, and Seiji often found that he truly felt better when the darker man was around.  
  
"Spar?" Anubisu's voice was somehow gentler than Seiji remembered, and he looked suspiciously at the other man. Did Anubisu know about New York? Had one of the others told him, asked him to come to Earth and help Seiji 'recover' as they so relentlessly were attempting themselves? He hoped, truly and completely hoped not, on both counts. Seiji wasn't certain that he could stand the loss of pride that would come from that.  
  
Eyes narrowed, Seiji nodded and swung his legs over the side of the window. He pushed off the ledge, hitting the ground lightly.   
  
"Where?" He asked and straightened. Anubisu shrugged.  
  
"Here's as good as anywhere. It's been a while since I practiced out of doors."  
  
This meant, of course, that Anubisu had probably not done so since the night before. He devoutly followed a training regiment that he had told Seiji of once, when both had lain exhausted on the floor of Grandfather's dojo after a particularly fierce bout of training.   
  
Seiji nodded, not feeling much up for words at the moment. Truth to tell, he hadn't since before New York, and he'd been introverted before even that. He had always preferred to let his actions speak for him; they told the world far more eloquently his intentions than the clumsy words he managed to say aloud.  
  
He followed the same pattern here. Willing Kourinken into his hands, Seiji dropped into a defensive position. Anubisu walked ten paces away and raised an eyebrow at Seiji's desire to not call the yoroi. He didn't comment on it or call his own, though that had been their standard during these midnight duels. Yamiken appeared in a flash of dark lightning and Anubisu moved to the ready position.  
  
The wind was picking up now and dark clouds whirled across the sky, indicating that perhaps the storm was closer than Seiji had originally thought. It deepened the shadows, cast the orange haloed moon's light farther from himself. The wind was cooler now than it had been before, and it made bumps rise from the chill on Seiji's exposed skin. The grass tickled his bare feet, and was slippery beneath them. He'd have to be careful to watch his footing.  
  
Across from him, Anubisu lifted Yamiken.  
  
"Physical attacks only?" He queried, and Seiji nodded again, though there was a sort of uncharacteristic recklessness haunting his blood. It grew as the fight loomed closer. If this had been a more open place, it might have been interesting to attempt to use Kourin's more mystical abilities even without being encased in the yoroi. He was reluctant to do this so close to Natsuei's home, unprotected as it was from Kourin and Yami's rather destruction natures. No amount of recklessness could make him risk that.  
  
He shifted his balance, then launched himself forward. Anubisu did the same. They met in the middle, blades clanging against one another in a jarring thump which reverberated up Seiji's arms and down his spine. This was fantastic; this was *wonderful*, the feel of it - this glorious adrenaline rush that came from fighting once more. He'd not felt this since before Shikaisen - the others had been too concerned for his health to dare spar with him after their return - and there was anger in that remembrance but he didn't have the time to push it aside.  
  
Seiji heard himself shout but didn't know what he said, then jumped back to land with cat footed ease on the smooth grass. Anubisu followed, swinging an overhead blow which Seiji caught on the flat of Kourinken's blade, then withdrew and attacked himself. He took the offensive then, forcing Anubisu backwards with a grim sort of desperation. He hadn't been able to fight Shikaisen, not truly battle against him; the demon had known how to counter anything which Kourin might have pitted against him. All of Seiji's skills with a sword came to nothing when battling a creature without a physical form and the demon knew how to avoid any and all mental attacks that Seiji could have possibly tried.  
  
Anubisu was a better foe. Anubisu was tangible, Anubisu could be caught and fought against, Anubisu had the blessing of steel to put against Seiji's own, Anubisu had strong arms and fast legs which provided the perfect challenge.   
  
Seiji attacked again, a broad swipe aimed at Anubisu's midsection. Yami dodged the blow, let loose a kick of his own designed to knock Seiji off his feet. Seiji jumped it, leaping from the ground in a flip that took him over Anubisu's head and left him at Anubisu's unprotected back. He swiped again, and Anubisu barely had opportunity to catch the blow on Yamiken before Seiji had backed off to prepare for another attack.  
  
  
  
The anger in him had grown, it was a fiery rage which Seiji had not actually acknowledged before - had not truly dared to, not with the broken look in Shin's gaze, the worried one on Touma, the fearfully confused expression on Shuu's face, and worse of all, that dull guilt inducing remorse that Ryou so often showed thanks to the girl who had needlessly died thanks entirely to Seiji's inability to free himself back in New York, when he had to be rescued in Los Angeles. How could he possibly show anything but gratefulness to the friends who had risked and lost so much in their attempts to save him?  
  
But Anubisu hadn't saved him. Anubisu wasn't staring at him with guilty eyes and Anubisu wasn't attempting to grind down any negative emotions and Anubisu wasn't pretending oh-so-hard that the past summer hadn't occurred. Anubisu was just there, exactly where Seiji needed him to be, and it was almost frightening the ease Seiji had in transferring that bottled rage against fate onto his one time enemy.  
  
Anubisu was completely on the defensive now, he seemed to be saying something but Seiji couldn't hear it, couldn't hear anything save for the rush of the air in his ears and the desperate sound of screaming. He wasn't certain if the phantom voice was his own or on the many victims who Kourin had unwittingly killed. He did not want to know.  
  
He just wanted to loose himself in the battle, in the fight, and that he could not completely forget himself in it caused despair to rise. He couldn't think. He couldn't plan the careful attacks he was so used to making. The Seiji of a year ago would have been able to take the Seiji of now in mere moments. Every move was tinged with misery and he knew it, could feel it, and could even see the mistakes that he was making moments before he had but was unable to stop them.  
  
Anubisu was letting him make them, Seiji realized with a start. Seiji was not up to form, not after a month of captivity and then no training to follow. The Anubisu of a year ago would have been able to take the Seiji of today within mere moments as well. It was a disquieting thought and one which horrified him, even as he continued to make clumsy, foolish mistakes. Even as Anubisu let him attack, Yamiken a silver flash as he countered Seiji's blows.  
  
  
  
That understanding forced the realization that Anubisu had to *know*. He would never have let Seiji get away with this otherwise. It filled the blond with a different form of despair and rage.  
  
Seiji stopped, breathing deeply in an attempt to gain control of both his breath and his emotions. Anubisu took a step back and let Yamiken disappear. He was still watching Seiji, his eyes dark and unreadable.   
  
The night was complete now. The clouds had completely covered the sky and had driven away any hint of light that might have come from it. The fireflies were gone, their minute lights vanished. Their fight had led them far away from Natsuei's home, and Seiji realized that he could see nothing at all save for Anubisu himself. The darkness was full, and Seiji was alone with the master of it. Despite himself, he shivered.  
  
His left hand still clutching Kourinken tightly, he stared at Anubisu with wide eyes.   
  
"/Why? /" he said at last, and was horrified to hear his voice crack on the single word.  
  
Anubisu shrugged, an easy roll of leather encased shoulders.  
  
"You needed it," he said, voice even and calm, as though Seiji had not just been wildly attacking him.  
  
"Who told you?" Seiji demanded. Guilt inducing eyes or not, whoever had dragged Anubisu out to the mortal world, had invaded the privacy of their bond in order to 'help' would regret it. It was probably Touma, he thought savagely. Touma always thought he was helping when he hindered most and was always so surprised when he discovered that his attempts blew up in his face.  
  
"You did." was the cool response. Seiji staggered back a step, feeling more shocked than if Anubisu had punched him. Kourinken flickered out of existence, unnoticed.  
  
"That's impossible," Seiji snarled. The anger was still there, uneasy and roiling in his stomach.  
  
"If you're asking who gave me the specifics," Anubisu went on calmly, "No one did. You felt upset. I came to see why."  
  
Slight relief at that. Anubisu didn't know of Shikaisen and the tortures there. He didn't know of the people dead and their blood on Kourin's blade. The blade, Seiji remembered, that he had just fought with.   
  
Feeling ill, Seiji sank into a lotus position. Another thing occurred to him then, and he looked up with surprise as Anubisu stepped forward to kneel next to him. Even without knowing why, the older man had allowed Seiji to vent. He'd let Seiji to attack without protection of any sort save from what his own blade would grant. A single hit not blocked and Anubisu could have been killed. Seiji wouldn't have been able to prevent it from landing. His control had been shot.   
  
He flushed at the realization. Anubisu could be dead now, and it wouldn't be thanks to the efforts of a mad man and a sadistic demon, but due to nothing more simple than Seiji's own stupidity.   
  
He felt sick at the thought and shivered once again. To his surprise, warmth then embraced his shoulders. Looking down, he could see Anubisu's leather jacket covering them. Oddly touched and not certain to make of the gesture, he stared up at Anubisu's face.  
  
Anubisu smiled at Seiji's obvious confusion and reached out a hand to touch the other's face. Seiji held very still, feeling the sword calloused fingers sweep gently over the skin. They trailed down the curve of his cheeks, brushed against the light ridge of his eyebrow, traced through the fine thickness of his hair. They felt almost electric, as though Seiji's innate Light could feel Anubisu's own Darkness. The result tingled across his skin, and when Anubisu began to lift his hand away, Seiji found himself covering it with one of his own.  
  
Anubisu looked startled at it for a brief moment, and when their gazes met, his seemed somehow more open than Seiji had ever seen it.   
  
"Did you want to know why?" Seiji murmured, feeling brave enough to ask that question now that Anubisu's hand was leeching warmth into his skin. He had not spoken about his captivity to anyone, not to his friends nor to the myriad doctors that he had seen once finally freed. He thought could tell Anubisu, if Anubisu wanted to know.  
  
"Did you want to tell me?" Was the response. Seiji shrugged, uncertain.   
  
"I don't really want to talk about it," he admitted, before adding "But if you want to know..."  
  
Anubisu shook his head.   
  
"Tell me when you're ready."  
  
It was such an automatic response that Seiji found himself stunned once more. If he had posited the question to Touma or Shin or one of the others, they would have jumped on the opportunity, would have asked questions and demanded answers, and Seiji would almost have been hurt more by the interrogation than he had by the actual happening. That Anubisu wasn't demanding it, that he was merely _here_ meant more than he could have put into words. Anubisu was just a gentle pressure against Seiji's thigh and side and mind, and he felt emotion swelling again and once more was unable to stop it.  
  
It rose within him, a terrible mixture of grief and shame, fear and pain. The anger that had masked it and the apathy that had shielded it before was gone, and without those barricades to the torment inside, Seiji found himself entirely unprotected. Wrapping his arms around himself, he curled tight and then was crying, huge terrible gulping sobs over what had happened and what he hadn't been able to show to the friends who were still healing themselves.  
  
Warm arms caught him when he would have fallen, and Seiji fell into them, still crying. Anubisu was holding him tightly, and Seiji relished in the feeling, a small spark of brightness to counter the agony within. Around them, it began to rain, fat droplets hitting the back of Seiji's head as he attempted to burrow deeper into Anubisu's embrace.  
  
He felt like screaming but couldn't catch his breath; he wanted to rage but couldn't find the strength. He couldn't even find it within himself to stop the shameful tears nor even the ability to care that he was exposing himself as he would to no one else, and doing so in front of his once mortal enemy. He didn't have the will to do anything save clutch Anubisu's damp shirt closer, to loose himself in the smell of the man and the feel of his skin, the touch of his hands as they stole beneath the borrowed jacket to trace soft patterns on Seiji's back.  
  
It was exhaustion more than anything else which caused Seiji's tears to finally slow. He felt drained completely, devoid of all emotion. He couldn't do anything save for to watch the rain fall around them unseen thanks to the dark, an invisible pattering of cold against his face and hands. Anubisu continued his gentle caress. He was humming something, a soft snatch of lullaby written over four hundred years ago. Seiji sighed and turned his face closer to the skin of Anubisu's neck, closing his eyes to the world.  
  
"Better?" From here, Anubisu's voice was a deep rumble. Seiji could feel it vibrating through his hands, through his face, pressed as it was into Anubisu's throat. He nodded dully.  
  
"Seiji..." Anubisu murmured, and one hand moved up to stroke at Seiji's hair. Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of tires against gravel. It was an invasion into this relaxed moment, and Seiji half wanted to pretend that he could hear neither it nor the voices that cursed the rain and announced their home coming.   
  
"The others are back," Seiji said instead. He wasn't certain if Anubisu would have been able to hear him.  
  
"You should go then."   
  
"I don't want to." Seiji said, and gripped Anubisu closer. Anubisu's arms tightened around him again, a firm protection from the outside world's damnable intentions.  
  
"Then don't," Anubisu said, and Seiji complied with a slow nod.   
  
"It wasn't your fault." Seiji froze at the words. "Whatever it was, it wasn't your fault."  
  
"You don't know that," Seiji said lowly, shaking again.  
  
Anubisu shrugged.   
  
"I don't know what happened, you are absolutely right. But I know *you*. I made a point of it, last year, to learn everything that I could about you, about your motives and your reasoning. After the war, I forgot to stop. You're a fascinating person." This was said unabashedly. "I know you better than anyone else. So I can tell you, quite honestly, that whatever it was that has gotten the lot of you into this state, it was not your fault."  
  
"Anubisu..." Anubisu didn't let him finish the thought.   
  
"I've heard some things, back at home and out here. I can put most of them together. I don't know the details, but I do know that you would do everything in your power to prevent a demon from taking control of your yoroi. You haven't changed that much since last year."  
  
"People *died*, Anubisu," Seiji screwed his eyes shut even tighter.  
  
"Have you forgiven me for the war?"  
  
  
  
"Of course," Seiji said, startled by the question.  
  
"Then you have no excuse not to forgive yourself. I've killed. Arago demanded it on occasion, and other times I killed for the joy of it, or to cause another pain. You forgave me that. You are a lot of things, Kourin no Seiji, but a hypocrite isn't one of them."  
  
The voices were rising in the distance now, concerned sounding now that Seiji had not been found. Seiji ignored them in favor of mulling over this new view of his situation.  
  
"I did something," he said, halfway whispering the words once more. "To catch their attention. They hadn't even known of the others, so I had to have done something to draw their sights. It was ...easy for them. I wasn't expecting it. I had my guard down."   
  
"So? The war is over. The chance that mortals would know of the yoroi is so slight as to be almost inconceivable. Are you going to continue to beat yourself over a freak accident?"   
  
The words were reasonable, but the guilt was the sort which stored itself in one's very marrow where it could attack without warning. A simple talk wouldn't vanquish it, much as Seiji might have wished. And it wasn't just the guilt, though that masked what lay underneath. Snatches of remembered pain was locked there, thoughts of what Seiji had suffered to protect the yoroi hidden next to the memories of his imprisonment with Shin and Shuu the year before. He refused to acknowledge them. Rather than state this, he merely didn't respond.  
  
"It's not just that, is it?" Anubisu went on, the tone of his voice vaguely curious. "I mean, it's not like you gave the yoroi to them. You had your shot at turning to the darkness and I've seen how hard you can resist it. So what did they do to you?"  
  
The query shot through the walls Seiji had up against those memories, and a flash of them rose unbidden. Pain beyond pain and screaming till his voice was gone and he could taste again the blood in the back of his throat. Seiji could almost still feel the agony of it when the scientist had pushed the third button to the right on his consol and lightning had coursed through his body, too strong for even his own Light abilities to assimilate. He remembered the feel of their hands on his body, as they moved him as they would, the feel of ripping needles and the drugs which had raced through his veins, and countless other painful thoughts that pressed like broken glass on his barely healed mind. Seiji thought of these and pushed the memories away, not wanting to think about them. He never wanted to think about them.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."   
  
"Then don't." It was the same easy answer as before. Seiji was just as grateful for it. He couldn't bring himself to tell Anubisu about the tortures he'd so recently undergone. It was far better to just relax and not think about it for the moment, to drift in the cold rain and feel Anubisu warm against him. He was suddenly very tired, as though when he had released the pain he'd been carrying inside of him all his energy had gone with it. All he wanted at that moment was sleep, easy, comforting, soothing sleep. He wanted it to be dreamless. Somehow he thought it would be if Anubisu stayed.  
  
The world seemed a calm and drowsy place, and when Seiji's eyes drifted open, the rain around them had softened their surroundings to a grey sphere that held only himself and Anubisu. He let them fall shut again, reveling in the feel of Anubisu's hand against his hair, finding joy in its touch as it swept down to trace his face once more.  
  
It was warm there, and peaceful, and somehow he couldn't find it within himself to care when the voices of his friends became louder and closer. He was too close to sleep to notice what they said, merely that they sounded concerned and distrustful, presumably due to the presence of the former Ma Sho in their midst. Seiji could feel the deep rumble that meant that Anubisu had said something, but didn't know what. He barely noticed when Anubisu's arms swept down around him, drawing him up as they both rose. It was comforting, to be cradled like that. There was a soft brush of lips against Seiji's forehead, so slight he might have thought he'd dreamed it save for the slight jittering of shock that trickled through the bond he shared with the others.   
  
"Oyasumi nasia, Seiji," Anubisu murmured into Seiji's hair.  
  
And Seiji smiled.  
  
owari  
  
_______________  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
_______________  
  
You know, just once, it might be nice to get a plot bunny for a YST fic that didn't involve A. Seiji torture and B. Gaiden.   
  
Having said that, I hope you enjoyed this ficlet. It was written for Shadow of Arashi's birthday as she is a marvelous person and deserves fantastic things. ^_^  
  
The next chapter of Darkness Bind Them is coming along, slow but sure. It had a set back because I had to chop out a scene which I'd written to make up the bulk of the chapter. It didn't fit yet and will probably go in chapter three. Alas for this means that chap2 needs more work than originally thought... My apologies for the delay!  
  
As always, your comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. How will I know what I'm doing wrong if you don't?  
  
Ja!  
  
Ginzai  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/ginzai  
  
http://www.geocities.com/dremlet/index.html 


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